“I dream of flight, not to be as the angels are, but to rise above the smallness of it all. The smallnesss that I am. Against the daily death the iconography of wings.”
“Through the wind and the rain She stands hard as a stone In a world that she can't rise above But her dreams give her wings And she flies to a place where she's loved Concrete angel”
“If I am an angel, paint me with black wings.”
“So rapid is the flight of dreams upon the wings of imagination.”
“When I dream, I am surrounded by wings.”
“The merrel also knew its wing had not healed. But I could reach a great height once more before it failed me, it said. And from there I would fold my wings and plummet to the earth as if a hare or a fawn had caught my eye; but it would be myself I stooped toward. It would be a good flight and a good death. And so I eat their dead things cut up on a pole, dreaming of my last flight.”